


The Scent of Rain

by TSerpillum



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Childhood Memories, Family, Gen, Loneliness, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-12 00:43:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13536048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TSerpillum/pseuds/TSerpillum
Summary: “I like the smell of the forest more when there’s no snow.” He thought out aloud watching the broad back of his father in awe, wondering if he’ll ever be so strong like him.“How does it smell like?” his father quietly asked, attentive enough to keep his voice low, not to scare animals away.“Mostly of moss. In spring it’s the damp earth, buds and little plants from the ground. In summer it’s fresh leaves, sun and pines. In autumn it’s the fallen leaves, berries and later decay. And after rain it smells strongly of moss, fungus and refreshed trees. That is my favourite smell.”His father stopped to take a look at his son who explained this in all seriousness, sniffing under his gaze as if to confirm his ability.“So” he began, studying the big reddened nose that sticked outside of his wool scarf “How does winter smell like?”“Snow, frozen trees and animal piss.” He responded right away, making his father chuckle and resume his previous path.“Animal piss.” Laughing to himself, he didn’t try to tell him there were barely any animals at all now, for his growling stomach will tell him soon enough.





	The Scent of Rain

**Author's Note:**

> My love and interest for Mike and his character is huge, so this happened. A glimpse of his background story my imagination created, curious about the child he was and the life he lived before he became the powerful Squad leader.  
> There might be more of this if it keeps bugging me.  
> So feedback would be greatly appreciated!  
> Enjoy. :)

As the evening threw its veil over the walled land, it released the heavy clouds from its burden in the delicate form of little raindrops.

“They’re a blessing for the famers and refreshment for hunters and their prey.” His father would say ever so often his little son complained about it.

 

Mike Zacharias loved the outdoors even as a child, the deep forest inhabited by wolves, foxes, and smaller creatures that hid in the branches or bushes, was another home for him who felt restrained in the wooden cabin they lived in. Only when he returned home as a grown up man, as a freshly promoted squad leader, he realized how humble it actually was in comparison to the memory he had of it.

“My baby brother has gotten quite old.” Would Mina laugh at him, hiding the relief of seeing him healthy and in one piece behind her witty humour.

He had to hunch in order to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe, his feet were sticking out of his bed and quilt, and when he hugged his father , his greyed head reached only beneath his sons chin. A long time ago, this same man seemed to him as the strongest oak of the forest,   the wisest one who survived all weather conditions and reached as high to the clouds as his offspring never would be able to reach.

“I am proud of you, my son. But it’s time to think about your future, about starting a family.”

But inside of his stuffed office, in the loneliness a soldier accepts as a part of himself, all he can think of is the past and the smell of rain back at home that slowly faded from his mind, until he could no longer recall it. Following Hanji’s advice, he wrote down all associations he had with this meaningful scent, starting with Mina’s damp hair, over the mud and crumpled leaves on his old shoes, to the luring cooking in their cosy kitchen, tempting him to steal his sisters favourite cookies mother often baked. Shuffling close to the fireplace, him and Mina would wait for their father to open the front door, to weaken the scent of smoke and burning wood he chopped with the one of fresh rain, rinsing the heaven facing leaves. The pictures were there, vivid in colors in motions, he even remembered the exact strands he pulled out of Minas braid, ruining it, every time she annoyed him, but it was all scentless therefore shallow to him. Quite ironic, he smirks to himself joylessly, for the forest and hunting were the first testing grounds for his special ability.

As a five year old, he couldn’t understand why the table was set only for him and Mina, and even for the two of them, mere children, it wasn’t enough. Returning from hunting empty handed, father apologized to mother right away, before he even entered their little home to warm himself.

“I want to go too, father!” the son of the Zacharias family embraced his fathers’ leg, disabling him to go alone. With a sigh of exhaustion, his father agreed and let his second born child stomp after him, as he made a little path in the knee high snow he could walk on.

“I like the smell of the forest more when there’s no snow.” He thought out aloud watching the broad back of his father in awe, wondering if he’ll ever be so strong like him.

“How does it smell like?” his father quietly asked, attentive enough to keep his voice low, not to scare animals away.

“Mostly of moss. In spring it’s the damp earth, buds and little plants from the ground. In summer it’s fresh leaves, sun and pines. In autumn it’s the fallen leaves, berries and later decay. And after rain it smells strongly of moss, fungus and refreshed trees. That is my favourite smell.”

His father stopped to take a look at his son who explained this in all seriousness, sniffing under his gaze as if to confirm his ability.

“So” he began, studying the big reddened nose that sticked outside of his wool scarf “How does winter smell like?”

“Snow, frozen trees and animal piss.” He responded right away, making his father chuckle and resume his previous path.

“Animal piss.” Laughing to himself, he didn’t try to tell him there were barely any animals at all now, for his growling stomach will tell him soon enough. Dwelling on this this painful thought longer than necessary, he didn’t pay attention to his son who stood in place, sniffing intensively in several directions. Only when he ran off east, a little figure struggling through the masses of snow and tall trees, he followed him wearily, wondering what’s going on in that thick skull of his to underestimate the forest at this time of the year.

 

 

When they returned home before nightfall, they brought a deer along.

“Mike sniffed it out.” His father explained to his wife, after she hugged him gratefully with tears in her eyes, ignoring the disbelief in her husband’s voice as well as what he said about their widely grinning son. Their children won’t have to suffer starvation, and that’s all that mattered.

It was only father’s and Mina’s eyes bound to him in a look whose meaning he couldn’t figure out.

 

 

“Mother! Mother! Mike knows who steals tomatoes from the old farmer at the foot of our hill!” came Mina running into the kitchen one day, followed closely by Mike, whose eyes were filled with excitement about having done something good. He is useful, able to help the old farmer by revealing who is the culprit.

The laments of the old farmer reached their little village, who complained profoundly about the thievery of his fields he worked so hard on. Mike liked the old man who was always kind to him, greeted him nicely and gave him a carrot to chew on while carrying the vegetables home his mother requested. It pained him to see good people suffer, and relying on his ability, he found out who the culprit is.

Putting her hands on her waist, his mother furrowed her brows at him.

“Don’t tell me…” she almost whispered, Mina’s nodding confirmation enough.

“Juri smells exactly as the tomatoes the old man grows there! He is the thief!” blurting his disclosure out in one breath, he inhaled deeply, awaiting his mother’s reaction which differed much from his expectation.

 “Stop telling lies, Mike! Tomatoes don’t smell like anything, and don’t you ever dare sniff Juri again! The villagers are already wary enough of you!” she scolded him in enragement, greatly disapproving of her son’s behaviour.

Ignoring his mother’s words, he wanted to achieve justice all by himself, openly accusing Juri of thievery. It backfired in ways his childish mind couldn’t understand. The villagers accepted it as reason enough to belittle him, call him the forest dog, living too far off in the wilderness so he became a wild animal himself. So it was even more funny to see all of those who insulted and threw rocks at him, greet him as he rode down the old village road leading to his home , telling they always believed in his strength, yeah, only a guy like him could become humanities strongest. Suddenly everyone loved and respected him, and he wondered how they could forget all humiliations they induced upon him so easily without any ounce of shame.

The power of his body was strictly monitored by his father, who saw the changes in his boy, body elongating and shoulders widening, and the force which he led the axe with greatly surpassing his even in his prime. Mike’s errands got more physically demanding, all in order to drain him of his energy, which would sooner or later find release on one of his peers who enjoyed to tease him. But as reticent as he was, he didn’t give it much thought as he got used to his status as an outcast. He had his family, the forest, and all the friendly animals that lived there, their scents being more pleasant anyway than the body odours of the sweaty village people. Yet his irresponsiveness unnerved the village gang even more, his patience and self-control seemingly endless, no joke about him nasty enough to shake him. But he had one weak point – Mina – which they caught up on, giving her a share of offenses usually Mike received, shattering the self-mastery he built in a matter of seconds. That was the first time in his life he was violent towards humans, letting all the bottled up rage out on the five of them, giving a lesson they would never forget.

And it was this gang that talked to him first upon his return home, flattering him until his stomach twisted in disgust.

 

This incident made the villagers proclaim the weird Zacharias kid as violent and bloodthirsty, making him retreat even more into himself, pondering for days about the terrifying feeling he experienced when he beat up the idiots. But it’s always desperation to lure out all the worst in a human, not even an animal will attack until it feels threatened  or driven into a corner, and this wild creature the Zacharias’ had as a son shared the same reason. Perhaps they were right, all of them who proclaimed him as a beast just moments before attacking. They left him alone, avoiding not only him, but also the entire family. So when little Lilly, their baby sister of very fragile health, got sick, no doctor wanted to come and treat her although it was a three year old child without any blame or sin to carry on its soul.

It was a loss he did not even talk to Mina about, strengthening the fortress of silence he retreated in, to hide his suffering even from himself. Lowering the little coffin into the dark ground, grief took hold of the hunter family, who thanked mother nature for the two healthy and grown children they were blessed with, deciding they were blessed enough.

He was only 11, too young to be torn up inside like a rabbit wolves feasted upon with their sharp canines. During heavy rainfalls he stood outside on the porch, trying to find comfort in the scent of moss, old wood and refreshment, alone and distanced in a space no one would reach to him again, not even his older self, similar to a lone wolf in a cave, hiding in his office to recall his home and days long gone.

When Mina’s engagement was announced, he made his decision. His brother in law was of humble origins, but a good man with a sincere affection for her, so he knew she will be safe. A new protector stepped in now and Mike quite lost his purpose there, becoming more of a burden than he liked to be. After the wedding, he went away, in a life full of dangers and horror he had barely any clue about.

All those new intense experiences of the path he chose pushed the old ones away over the edge, straight into the depths of oblivion, never to be regained again.

 

In the Survey Corps headquarters, the place he accepted as a new home, the rain smelt of mildew nestled between the ancient stones, ages old dirt and another scent was there he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was incomplete, something was missing, and in the late hours in his office, he believed it was the gone odour of the poor soldiers short on luck. Through those components, a thin yet pricking thread of lonesomeness was to be felt devoid of any warmth a human craves. Maybe the villagers were right back then, perhaps he truly was a half an animal with his strength and ability to bear the burden of so many sacrificed lives, continuing to do so leading younger soldiers straight into deaths arms. Still there are those nights when he felt so overwhelmingly human, a vulnerable boy that’s preyed upon for the craving of the inner of his heart, the core that survived the hardships and suffering. So he sat there, starring on the paper in front of him which certainly stated Mike Zacharius is human, even though he rarely felt so.

 

“My fifth baby is a boy, so I named it after you. Now you need to promise to name your little daughter after me, my little baby brother.” Mina wrote him a few days ago, her letters always a source of joy, seeing that she didn’t lose any of her humour and love for him.

Mike sighed, unsure of his wishes and the right to even have them as he stood in front of the open window, a few small raindrops getting lost in the wrinkles on his face. Every expedition could be his last and he’s made it far enough anyway. As the oldest member of the Survey Corps, he knows that his time is close to running out. Even if he doesn’t want to show it, his body slowly loses it strength, tiring now faster than before, and even his vision worsened especially upon darkness’ arrival. Leaving a widow and an orphan behind is selfish beyond measure, however the longing for affection has gotten more intense, bothering him deeply to such an extent where he couldn’t escape the thoughts anymore. Small daydreams fuelled by ever present yearning,  of a fine woman to sit beside the fireplace and chat about the scent of the rain, of a life once lived and left behind, deep in the woods of Wall Roses outskirts, the tale about the boy whose human nature was questioned ever since his birth, with a small spark of hope in the ashes the wood burnt to by dawn.

Perhaps wild beasts aren’t to be loved, only admired from the distance, from a safe corner where the petrichor brings a solace beasts are damned to be unable to feel.


End file.
